


Body Damage

by SnowWhiteKnight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, grease monkey!Sansa, i don't know where i'm going with this, inept at cars!Sandor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:11:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13443483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWhiteKnight/pseuds/SnowWhiteKnight
Summary: Of course this would happen to him on his day off. Sandor discovers his truck has been vandalized and has to take it to Stark's Auto & Body Repair Plus.





	Body Damage

**Author's Note:**

> Female body specialist for cars. A guy comes in, he’s big and burley. Knows nothing about cars except the basics. His truck is beat to shit. Some kids took a baseball bat to it, and spray paint. AU  
> DailyAU tumblr
> 
> So, this is another one that I've just had sitting in my WIP stack. First chapter is done, but I haven't a clue where to go next from here.

Sandor stood in the lobby of the body repair shop, pissed to all seven hells.

This morning he had discovered his truck had been vandalized, spray painted with the words “UgLY fUCkING CuNT” in bright green and pink across the wide black door panels on the driver side, a baseball bat taken to the back window and the passenger side, the inside smelled like someone had taken a piss, a shit _and_ died, and two of the tires were slashed. He was fortunate that the repair shop had a tow truck, though it was driven by a pretty man with black curls, the kind girls went crazy over, who showed up to tow it in. The patch on his coveralls said “JON”. Sandor had felt even worse sitting next to him as they drove to the shop. _Just sitting next to him makes me feel like a fuckin’ aurochs._

It was a relief once they got there and he could get away from the pretty fucker. An older man was at the front desk, his nametag announcing him to be “NED”.

“How can I help you, sir?” Ned asked.

“Not a sir,” he growled automatically, then wanted to kick himself. He was too used to being around his boss and his fancy-as-fuck associates. “Sorry. Rough morning. My truck, I called for a tow. Black pickup.”

“Ah, yes.” Ned grimaced. “Sorry that happened to you. At least your insurance is covering the costs, and we’ve got the best repair team in the whole of Westeros. You’re in good hands at Stark’s Auto & Body Repair Plus. If you’ll take a seat at the table, the lead repair specialist will be with you as soon as possible to discuss the extent of the damage, what you’d like to do, and give you an estimate. We need to run diagnostics and evaluate your truck, which may take up to an hour.”

“That's fine and thanks.” Sandor sat down in the largest chair available, and even that was a bit small for him. He was thankful there was no one else in the little waiting area. He felt physically uncomfortable and would no doubt feel even more so if anyone was there to not only witness his discomfort, but also to stare at his scars. He hoped the technician didn’t stare too much. He might not be able to keep his cool if he did. He watched the tv provided for waiting customers, some movie just barely starting.

The hero was just about to get a big reveal when the door to the service area opened, and footsteps thudded across the floor. Ned was gone, probably in the back office. A woman plopped down in the chair next to him, a clipboard full of paperwork clattered onto the table. “By the gods, it’s hot out there,” she muttered. Dark red hair tied back in a tight bun, flawless ivory skin marred only by smudges of grease and paint, bright blue eyes. She was fuckin’ beautiful. “How do you do, Mr. Clega--” She stopped and looked at him in surprise, right at the scarred half of his face. It took her two blinks to recover. “Ah, sorry. How do you do, Mr. Clegane? I’m Sansa, and I’ll be working on your vehicle.”

“Get a good look? Out of your system now?” he said with a slight sneer.

He saw her jaw clench, “I apologize, _sir._ I did not mean to insult you, but I was honestly startled.”

He glared at her, but she was glaring right back at him. He wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that she didn’t seem to be scared of him.

“Do you want to talk about your phallic representation or not?” she demanded.

“Excuse you, my truck is not a phallic representation,” he snarled.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you work in construction? You use it to haul materials?”

Sandor frowned. “Well...no…”

“Oh, but you _do_ use it for the purpose of having it, yes? And polish the bed of it weekly so that it looks like it’s never been used?” The corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. “Because if you’re not using your truck _as a truck,_ then it’s little more than male pride, a stroke to your ego.”

He barked out a laugh. “Alright, alright… I only got it because it was the most comfortable for someone of my height." She tilted her head, reminding him of a little bird. It was plain that she hadn't considered that as a reason to get a truck. "But you're mostly right. I don’t really use it for anything besides a place to sit when I go to the beach. And I put a cover down when I do that. The metal gets too hot if I don’t, and I don’t want to burn myself or my dog.”

“You have a dog? What kind?” she asked, her demeanor changing from annoyed amusement to genuine interest.

“Uh, a big one? He’s a mutt. He was rescued from a dog fighting ring. Kind of a bastard, but we get along well enough. I take him to the beach to run around and burn off his excess energy. He just really likes running through the surf.”

She laughed, like a gentle wind chime. “I can imagine. What’s his name? What’s he like?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be talking to me about my truck?” he asked. He didn’t mind talking about Stranger, but surely that wasn’t that interesting.

“Oh, right, of course.” The warm smile was gone, replaced by cool professionalism as she looked down at her clipboard. He regretted reminding her. He had almost felt normal, having a conversation with a pretty girl, and Stranger was a topic he could go on and on about, when he actually felt up to talking. “Well, the damage is pretty straightforward. I would recommend a full paint removal, completely gut the cab as well. I can remove just the spray paint, but the, um, the words would still be visible. The windows need replacement, of course, seeing as they are no longer there. We checked the engine and other functionalities. The damage is purely cosmetic, and you won’t need to take it anywhere else for this. We’ve already replaced the tires for you, so if you want to take your vehicle and possibly do the work yourself, you’ll be able to do that.”

“Do it myself?”

She shrugged. “Some people like to have us do the minimal and then finish it off themselves.”

“I can check the oil level and add in wiper fluid. Maybe the antifreeze. If I check the manual, that is. That’s about it.”

She chuckled, “Would not have expected that. You look like the type that could probably build an engine from scratch.”

He raised his good eyebrow. “Can you?”

“Doesn't matter if I can or can't. My brothers and sister can. I’m all about ‘makin’ it pretty’,” she scoffed. It sounded like a sore spot.

“Then, I guess I can leave my truck in your capable hands. I hear you’re the best,” he said.

She blushed and nodded a little. “Dad does like to brag.”

“How long will it take to finish?”

“With my current workload, should have it ready by the end of the week. If it takes longer, I’ll give you a call to let you know. I do need to discuss your options as well, such as if you want it exactly the same as before, or if you’d like to change it up a bit.”

“Change it how?”

“Different colors, maybe use a patterned upholstery instead of a solid color, that sort of thing. As long as the materials cost the same, otherwise you have to pay the difference. The paint job has some wiggle room, if you want, I don’t know, maybe stripes? You seem like a stripes sort of guy,” she said with a giggle.

“Really?”

She giggled again, “No, not really. Well, not the regular stripes. Maybe some black on black, something you can only see in the right light.”

“You can do that?”

“Sure, it’s a matter of using the right paints to contrast each other in either gloss or texture. Definitely within the costs that will be covered by your insurance.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure, that would be ok.”

“What about the inside? My hands are tied for any layout modifications, but I’m fairly free with fabric choices.”

“Layout modifications?”

She nodded. “Like if you wanted to change the bench seat to bucket seats, remove any panels to increase the room available, or really any modification you can possibly think of.”

“Ah, yeah, not really needing anything like that. Fabric though...I never really liked that ‘natural leather’ color. Stranger doesn’t like the faux leather either. Maybe something cotton? Or just more fabric-like. In a dull, slightly dark yellow? And black. It's, uh, sort of my favorite color combo...”

She raised both eyebrows. “Uh, sure, I can do that. Why don’t you come back day after tomorrow? I’ll have some fabric swatches ready for you to pick from.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Not until after five. I’ve got work.”

“Not a problem. Shop closes at six, but anytime after that, just ring the buzzer. I’ll be here until eight. Do you need a ride home? Or to work?”

“Friend of mine is coming by to pick me up. He’s perpetually late though, so…” He trailed off.

She smiled at him. “I’ve got a few friends like that. Well, help yourself to some pastries and coffee, and if you’d like to change the channel, the remote is probably buried under one of the magazines.”

“Thanks.”

She stood up and held her hand out. Sandor stared at it for a moment before taking it. “It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Clegane. I’ll see you in two days.” A small smile and she was gone, leaving only the scent of car oil and lemons.


End file.
